Two Cousins, One Disaster
by QuinnDeRavensborough
Summary: Minho's cousin Lennon is going stay over and visit for a while, and the two are eager to have plenty of fun in the upcoming weeks. Will Lennon like Minho's friends? Will there be any horrifyingly dangerous perils as the days go by? Will there be plenty of adventure, romance, intrigue, &tc.? Modern day AU. Suggestions from readers are welcome! :D
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first TMR fanfic in English! Unlike my ever so grand Spanish fics, this one will be multi-chapter, and, like my fanfics for other fandoms, will contain (guess who?!) Lennon, whom we all love so much and were hoping would have a happier life. Well, let's see how Lennon and the Gladers fare in the present era. I hope you enjoy!**

Minho Kang sighed as he sat on the bench with his parents. The train was supposed to arrive, like, twenty minutes ago, and it was kind of chilly outside. The sun was already starting to set in the sky, early as usual compared to that train. He wanted to head home soon, where it was nice and warm and there would be no trouble with potential hypothermia and sniffly colds.

Still, he was excited. His cousin Lennon was going to be over for a visit, all the way from Chicago. Minho was used to himself being the one to make visits, which were always fun. But, this time, he would be the host, and he would get to show Lennon around and cause trouble and stuff like that. Also, he would get to introduce Lennon to his friends, who were always a hoot and a holler.

The train finally arrived. Lennon came out, dragging behind him an evergreen suitcase with pink handles and zippers. He smiled at his relatives waiting for him, and walked towards them. They all engulfed him into one big group hug.

"Look how you've grown!" Aunt Gyeong said to him. "You don't get your height from the Kang side of the family, that's for sure."

"It's from my mom's side," Lennon said. "The Schliwinsky's hate the ground, I think."

"How is your family?" Uncle Myeong asked. "Are they doing well?"

"Mom's okay, as always," Lennon replied. "She's now working at a bakery, and she's quite happy there. Jack received a lucrative opportunity to co-lead his organization. Peter hasn't gotten into big trouble in the past few months at all. Whippoorwill, as I'm sure you know, is now engaged. And Harry got fired from the grass seed place, for not being conducive to a happy workplace."

Minho said, "This is nice and all, but can we do our catching up in the car? It's freezing out here."

"It is rather cold," Lennon said. "How long of a drive is it to your house?"

"About thirty minutes," Minho said.

"Sounds about right. When I lived in Pancaketown, that's about how long it took to get to Chicago."

Everyone went over to the car, stuffed Lennon's suitcase into the trunk, and drove up the road, out of Montreal, and northwards to their destination, the little town of Grenouille. They passed a few sheep on the road, I think.

Anyway, they finally reached Grenouille, and they finally reached their destination in Grenouille, which was a small house on the western part of town near the river. The sidewalks were cracked and beat up, and the powerlines were only dimly lit. Next door, there was a house with its Christmas lights on even though it was the wrong time of year, and across the street was an old, creepy church building with a sign on the front saying "Universal Church of Free Use of Recreational Drugs".

"Hmmm…" Lennon said. "Reminds me of Pancaketown."

"Welcome to our home," Aunt Gyeong said, walking towards the small house.

On the inside, the house was warm and cozy, with plump and plush sofas and armchairs in the parlor, and a simple, round wooden table in a kitchen that smelled pleasantly of kimchi and Asian peppers. There were two bedrooms in the house- Minho would have to share his with Lennon, which wouldn't be a problem in the least. Right above the front door, for anyone to see as they left the house, was a small wooden cross.

"My brothers and I were each given one before leaving Korea," Uncle Myeong explained to Lennon. "Have you seen the like in either of their houses?"

"Jack keeps his above his bed," Lennon answered. "I haven't seen Harry keep one around, though. He wouldn't have cared much for it, though, would he?"

After everyone finally got warm to their marrow again, Minho led Lennon into his room. The other day, clothes had been all over the floor, but Minho had been told to clean up his room. Now, the dresser actually was serving its purpose. Also, the bottom bunk would be serving its purpose, instead of waiting in loneliness for someone to sleep on it. Also, somehow Minho had gotten the smell of soy sauce out of the room.

"You can use part of the dresser, if you don't want your clothes to get wrinkled," he offered.

"Thank you," Lennon said. "Still, are you sure there's enough room? Also, could I use the closet, since some clothes will have to be hung up?"

He opened his suitcase. All of his clothes in there were black and white, two colors which made him feel more in his element. When he first met his bio-dad, Jack, he couldn't help but notice that they both dressed in almost exactly the same way.

"Sure," Minho said. "When are you ever gonna add color to your wardrobe?"

"Never," Lennon replied. "There's no need to. Color is too distracting- I don't want to have to stop and think every morning if my red shirt goes with my pink pants, or if my orange blazer with purple scarf will clash."

"So, what're you up for for tonight? I assume you'll want to get settled in and relaxed."

"Of course, of course. I don't want to end up as cranky as you, do I?"

Minho fake punched his cousin.

"Oh, and some of my friends will be coming over tomorrow," he said. "I hope you've brushed up on your French. If you haven't, though, they speak English pretty well."

"We'll see how well I do," Lennon replied. "I haven't been in very many situations where I've had to speak French, though. I mean, I speak Korean and Yiddish at home, English in most other places, Hebrew and Latin for religious services and purposes…"

"Yeah, I really didn't appreciate going to church with you for the first time and not understanding a thing anyone said. And I was totally lost at the synagogue."

"It's perfectly normal for me, so I get along fine in that type of environment. Also, Latin isn't that different from English, so it's easy to get used to, and one-fourth of Yiddish words are Hebrew, I think, so I got a good head start on that."

"Lies. All lies. If it wasn't for you, I'd probably not have passed my English classes and would still say things like, 'I buy from library.'"

Truth be told, Lennon had been practicing his French everyday for months, and was feeling somewhat confident in it. He'd even read _The Phantom of the Opera _in its original French, and had watched reruns of "Toc Toc Toc". That didn't erase any of his nervousness, though. He simply knew there was going to be a mess-up of some kind in his speech.

The evening went by in quite a wonderful, relaxing manner. Lennon chatted with his cousin, aunt, and uncle, and they got to catch up on all the family drama and family happinesses, simply enjoying not rushing through life like a bunch of maniacal maniacs.

The next day, though, would be a little different…

**Page break!**

"Come on, Tom!" Teresa said. "You're lagging behind!"

"Sorry," Thomas answered. "I think I got something in my shoe."

Thomas and Teresa were next door neighbors, and had been best friends practically their whole lives. Thomas was Minho's best friend, but Teresa certainly wasn't. Minho had somewhat of a "He's my best friend- you break his heart, I break your face" kind of personality, and he really had a hard time forgiving Teresa after she did some mean things to Thomas a few years back… like standing him up, then humiliating him, then passive-aggressively manipulating him to the point of total intimidation, &tc., &tc. You get the point. Thomas himself had long gotten over Teresa' past young teen immaturity rubbish, and now adored her more than ever.

The two besties reached Minho's house, and knocked on the door. The knock was answered by Aunt Gyeong. (Honestly, everyone called her by that- she would bring cookies to every city council meeting, and always carried around bandages and iodine in case a child skinned her/his knee and she so happened to be passing by).

"Hello, Thomas," she said. "Hello, Thérèse. How are you two doing?"

"We're doing fine," Thomas replied. He noticed Teresa looking somewhat frustrated. Aunt Gyeong, after years of knowing Teresa, still couldn't get her name correct. It wasn't too bad, other than the fact that one of the most hated teachers in the local school would make that mistake, also.

"Come on in, come on in," Aunt Gyeong said. "There are cookies being made at the moment, and I'll bring them into the parlor for everyone once they're ready."

In the parlor, Minho and Lennon were sitting with Newt and Alby, laughing at some dumb joke about "I gotcha where I wantcha, and now I'm gonna eatcha". They noticed the two newcomers immediately.

"Lennon," Minho said, "this is Thomas. He's gotta be one of the awesomest shanks you could ever meet. And this is his… friend who's a girl, Teresa."

"It's wonderful to meet you, Lennon," Teresa said. "We've all heard a lot about you."

"I've heard a lot about you, also," Lennon replied, smiling.

Teresa suddenly looked horrified, frightened.

Everyone continued on talking. Soon, the cookies were brought in, and everyone was munching pensively.

There was another knock at the front door.

"Who else did you invite?" Lennon asked. "You have a lot of friends, Minho."

Into the parlor walked a girl who looked as if she felt out of place.

"Brenda!" Minho said. "Glad you could come! I want you to meet my cousin Lennon."

"Hello, Lennon," the girl, Brenda said. "I heard you're from Illinois, like me. Chicago, is it?"

"Yes," Lennon replied. "And Pancaketown, though I doubt you've heard of it. Which Illinoisan municipality do you lurk from?"

"Oh, I come from Blue Oak Reservation," Brenda said, "across the Sabaidi-Sawatdi River. I lived there until my dad decided he hadn't spend enough time with me as a kid, so he moved me all the way to his new house in Quebec. I've only been here less than a year."

"The Blue Oak Reservation… I've heard of that place. That's where Ella used to live."

"Ella?" Minho asked. "You mean that devil woman who dared to break your heart into a million pieces?!"

"I miss having her as my extra special friend," Lennon mused. "Still, if she's gonna have that attitude and that mean and cruel behavior, I don't think it would have been emotionally and socially healthy for us to stick around together."

Since it's dull to just talk about small talk (though, my fanfiction often specializes in long conversations), I'll just skip to the part where someone suggests they all do something.

"Let's all do something," Alby said. He was getting bored of sitting down and listening to small talk. He was a doer, kind of. Not really. I'm not quite sure.

So, they all piled into Newt's minivan (because he knew how to drive), and they decided to go all the way to the town across the bridge, Les Lunettes, and stop at their super high-class karaoke bar with its own area specifically for throwing your peanut shells on the floor. In one corner was a super hygienic ball pit for the kiddies, and in another was a stand where a woman was selling some news magazine about aliens genetically engineering human babies. There was also a stage in this karaoke bar, with a karaoke machine, for singing.

"Let's order a pizza!" Thomas said. "I'm hungry!"

"You're always thinking about your stomach," Minho said. "Didn't you have enough cookies at my place? We should try out the arcade. I heard there's a new game where you're supposed to be drag racing! That sounds fun!"

A waiter walked up just then. His name tag said "Gally".

"I don't know about the virtual drag racing," he said, "but our karaoke performances are up, and our theme for this whole month is drag shows. What do you say? Wanna impress the audience?"

"What audience?" Lennon asked. "There's barely anyone in here."

"There's that lady over there," Gally the waiter replied. "I bet it's awful boring just sitting there trying to sell magazines. I mean, hockey cards would be different. But alternative news sources? Puh-leaze!"

"You look familiar…"

"Lots of folks say that. It's because I've got an unforgettable face."

"I just now remember! You're Schemsel Respiropesce-Schallamach's youngest child!"

"Don't you dare mention my father's name to me! He thinks he can get away with condescending me in front of countless souls merely because I am the youngest and ugliest!"

"That's total klunk, man," Minho said. "There's always a good reason to publically condescend someone. You should try it some time. And, Lennon, how do you know this guy?"

Lennon replied, "The Respiropesce-Schallamach family was at my mother's class reunion. Apparently, she and Mr. Respiropesce-Schallamach were dating all four years of high school."

"Ew!" Gally said. "My dad and your mom together? I bet they kissed. That's so disgusting!"

"So," Brenda inquired, "you're from Illinois also?"

"Nope," Gally replied. "I was born in Naples. At the age of five, my family moved over to the north part of Yukon, and over here. I hate moving. But, I'm probably gonna be moving to Grenouille next week, because I've got a lucrative job opportunity."

"Really?" Teresa asked. "Where will you be working?"

She thought this Gally guy was kind of cute, and couldn't wait to live in the same town as him. She kind of still liked Thomas, though. Maybe she'd have _two _boyfriends…

Gally replied, "I'll be ditching my job as a waiter to work as assistant to Dr. Archibald Janson."

Brenda gasped.

"That's my dad!" she exclaimed, with utter shock.

Just then, a cow fell through the roof of the karaoke bar.

"Moo!" it said evilly. It started shooting at Lennon, Minho, their friends, Gally, and the magazine lady with water pistols. Only, instead of water, the pistols contained grape juice, therefore staining their clothes.

"We need to call the police!" Alby shouted. "That cow shouldn't be allowed to ruin our clothes with grape juice!"

"I am not a cow!" the cow said. "I am a human!"

The cow pulled off its "head", which just so happened to be a mask, revealing the head of a pale man with a long, weasley nose and thinning white hair.

"I shall demolish all of your garments, rendering you bait for the flies which I shall cook into a pie to eat tonight!" the man said.

"Dad!" Brenda said, crossly. "Why on earth are you doing this?!"

"So we can have dinner for tonight," the man, Dr. Janson, replied. "Don't you like to eat fly pies?"

"No!" Brenda replied. "I'm a vegan, for goodness' sake! I don't approve of exploiting creatures the way you exploit those flies! And I also don't approve of crashing through roofs and staining people's clothes! I'll never get to wear this blouse ever again!"

"You're such a stick in the mud." Janson shook a disapproving hoof at his daughter. "Someday you'll notice just how fun I am, and you'll want to join my side in the divorce feud."

"I'll always side with Mom on that issue," Brenda replied.

"Come on, fellas," Minho said. "Let's leave this dumb karaoke bar. It hasn't been fun."

"Let's go to the thrift shop next door," Newt suggested. "We need new clothes after that grape juice shooting, and I've got twenty dollars in my pocket. That'll split between all of us, right?"

So everyone, including Gally and the magazine-selling lady, bought a new outfit from the thrift shop.

"How come you girls didn't just take clothes from the back of the stage of the karaoke bar?" Gally asked. "It was all women's clothes, anyway, and my manager wouldn't have cared."

"Because those clothes are all what men _think _women wear," Brenda replied.

"Believe it or not," Teresa added, "men really don't notice what a woman is wearing. No one on this whole entire planet is attentive. Except my parents. They're always telling me to change into 'something different' before I head to school. They think socks with sandals aren't appropriate or decent fashion choices, even though it's totally in style these days."

The thrift shop clerk was busy typing up the receipt for all the clothes on the thrift shop's new and recently updated typewriter. The price for all the clothes came to about twenty dollars, I think. The clerk kept making faces at Gally, who was laughing uncontrollably.

"That's my friend Ben," he explained to Newt.

"Looks like a slinthead," Newt mused. "Are you sure he's your friend, and not just hanging out with you for your money?"

"I don't have money," Gally said. "That's why I work at karaoke bars and for mad scientists."

"My dad is not a mad scientist!" Brenda said indignantly. "He's a horrifyingly lunatic scientist, that's what he is!"

Just then, someone ran into the thrift shop.

"There's a fire!" she hollered. "A fire, I tell you! A fire!"

"Harriet, what on earth are you talking about?" Alby asked. (He used to date her, but now that they lived in different towns, they decided to postpone their relationship).

"A fire, that's what I'm talking about!" Harriet held up a fire extinguisher, and pressed the extinguishing button. Out shot tons of maple syrup, getting over the clothes that everyone had just bought.

"Someday, Harriet," Thomas said, "you need to actually remember to keep Sonya with you."

"But I don't like her," Harriet replied. "She keeps syringes around just in case she needs to sedate me. She actually has a license to do stuff like that."

Everyone decided to go back to Grenouille. At least they could expect a little less unexpected wildness over there, and maybe not have to worry about getting their clothes dirty.

**Suggestions are welcome! Be sure to review and follow! I don't know when the next update will be, so, until then, stay giggley! **


	2. Chapter 2

**So, here's probably my "holiday update", or whatever all the jolly, festive people like to call these sort of... updates. I mean, there'll be barely any mention of holidays or celebrations in this chapter, but that's okay. **

**_Slight _****content warning: I kind of mention being "racially white" in a humorous manner. I hope it doesn't offend any of you-all. As a pasty-skinned Metis person, I thought I could get away with humorously laughing at such a patriarchal concept. (I mean, there really is no purpose of dividing people into races, is there? But that's a discussion for another time.)**

**I hope you enjoy this! **

"Minho!" Lennon whispered, shaking his cousin. "Are you asleep? Wake up! I think someone's walking on the roof!"

Yawning, Minho blurted out, "It's two o' clock in the morning! What're you even doing awake?"

"As I've said, there's obviously some creeper up on the roof!" Lennon looked genuinely concerned. "Does this normally happen around here? Is that why your deportment at this very moment is so nonchalant?"

"Do me a favor, and never use words like that again when I'm still half-asleep."

"Words like what?"

Minho groaned.

"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," he said. "I bet it's just Santa Claus or Daddy Christmas or Lady Befana or someone like that…"

"First of all," Lennon replied, "we're too old to believe in folks like that. But, second of all, and more importantly of all, it's not even the Christmas season. Therefore, even if someone was going around dressed as them, why would they be doing it right now? And why on this very roof?'

"You seem to forget that only a few days ago someone dressed up as a cow and squirted us with grape juice. Remember that? After witnessing _that_, it wouldn't be surprising if someone dressed as a Christmas character and caused a ruckus."

Minho rolled over and went back to sleep, but Lennon kept hearing sounds on the roof.

The sounds kept coming and coming and coming.

It was too much to handle.

"I'll first go check outside," Lennon muttered to himself. "Then, I'll decide how to handle the situation. If it's a creeper who needs to be tranquilized, or something, I might have to call the police. I just first have to remember the number to call 911… I'll have to look it up in the phone book, maybe."

He walked out of the bedroom, went through the parlor and to the front door. Gulping nervously, he crossed himself, then slowly opened the door handle. Creeping outside, he looked up at the roof.

"Brenda?!" he gasped. "What on earth are you doing up there?"

"Hi, Lennon!" Brenda greeted. "Sorry about this. My dad wants me to scout out just in case his arch-nemesis tries to come and foil his plans."

"Oh…" Lennon couldn't help but think that this was extraordinarily weird. "Well, I hope you have a fun time acting as a scout. What does that one racially stereotyped character say? 'Kemo sabe'? Yeah, the whole 'faithful scout' thing. Oh, well. Good night." Right before he went back into the house, though, he thought of something. "Hey, Brenda! You want tea or hot chocolate or something?"

"Sure," she replied. "Could you bring me some green tea?"

"With honey? That helps with colds and stuff and tastes perfect."

"You mean bee vomit? Arthropodal cud? No thank you. Just put in one or two teaspoonfuls of sugar."

Lennon prepared a green tea with sugar for Brenda, and a chai with sugar and milk for himself. He then went outside, and he climbed the trellis to get on top of the roof.

"Here's your tea," he said.

"Thanks," she answered, taking a sip of hers. "What type did you get?"

"Chai," he replied, "with sugar and milk."

"Hmmm…" She didn't look too happy.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry- I shouldn't react like this, I guess. It's dairy milk, isn't it?"

"Um… Yeah?"

"It just… It breaks my heart to know how humans have been hurting the other animals in the biosphere, and to see someone participating in something like that."

"But how does dairy consumption hurt the cows? It's not killing them. I mean, not all farms are factory farms. Some treat their cows really well."

"All I can say is that when my mother was pregnant with me, she didn't want anyone messing with her to steal the milk that was supposed to go to me. She figured that cows and goats and camels and llamas all think the same thing."

"Oh…"

Lennon decided that once he was a little more awake he'd rethink the dairy industry.

"You mentioned not killing cows," Brenda said. "Are you a vegetarian?"

"Yeah," Lennon replied. "You can't imagine how shocked everyone gets when they learn that, as if it's the weirdest thing in the world."

"I've been asked a bajillion times whether or not I eat fish…"

"Me too! And I also get asked about 'humane killing', and stuff like that. It gets so frustrating!"

"Do you ever get asked questions like, 'What do you eat?' or 'What's that actually like?'"

"Yup. It gets _so _annoying."

"Over the years, I've gotten so touchy about the subject of animal rights that I barely ever go to potlucks or certain get-togethers because I can't stand the sight of all those dead animals and their secretions…" Brenda sighed.

Lennon was quiet. He didn't know how to reply.

Brenda then said, "You know, there's a vegan restaurant over in Montreal that folks have been telling me is really great. Maybe we can try it out together sometime. You know, so I don't have to go alone."

"Okay," Lennon said. "You seem a decent enough person to go to a restaurant with."

Brenda laughed.

"Decent enough?" she inquired. "I guess that's better than what you could have said. I mean, you could have told me I'm just some creeper who climbs on roofs, so why in the blue blazes should you be going into town with me?"

Lennon laughed. Soon, the two of them were laughing together.

Brenda was deciding that Lennon was cool. He was nicer, and seemed more sensitive, than his cousin. Every time in the past few days when she'd talked to him, she felt better about herself, and, she felt a little more optimistic about her uncertain future. (Because, as we all know, it's not easy having to live with a mad scientist).

"So, Lennon, who are some of your friends back in Chicago?"

Smiling, Lennon said, "My best friend is Matthew. I was really shy when I first moved to Chicago, and he was one of the first people to talk to me. Ever since then, we've been closer than you'd think. We're almost always spending the night with each other, either at my family's houses or the community service commune his moms live in."

"Your family has more than one house?"

"My mom and Harry have one house, Jack has another."

"It's sort of like my parents. My mom's been living at Blue Oak Reservation her whole life, but my dad's been wandering around, searching for trouble to cause. I miss my mother, and my BFFs Rosie and Lilly. They're all awesome, and they're all far, far away. Oh, and by the way, I don't go by the last name Janson, since I identify more with my mom."

"What last name do you go by?"

"I go by…"

"Brenda Andersson!" Minho exclaimed accusingly as he climbed the trellis onto the roof. "What are _you _doing here this early in the morning?!"

"None of your business, Minho!" Brenda scowled.

"Lennon, why are you here talking to her?" Minho asked. "You're just encouraging her to stay and keep me awake! Brenda, if you don't leave right now, I'm gonna call the police!"

"But she isn't doing anything that'll hurt anyone," Lennon said.

"Yeah," Brenda added. "I'm just sitting on the roof, pretending to be on the look-out."

"I don't care!" Minho's face was red as an angry chameleon's. "What you're doing is called trespassing, and that's against the law!"

"But Lennon didn't tell me to leave," Brenda said. "Therefore, I simply assumed that it was alright to stay up here."

Minho glared at Lennon. But then, he looked back at Brenda.

"Well," he said, "I guess I can't argue with that sort of excuse. At least Lenny here wasn't allowing someone like Teresa or that dingbat Aris on the roof. I hate those guys!"

With that, Minho climbed off the roof and went back into the house.

Later on that day… Or was it the next day?... Halmeoni came to town. She was Minho and Lennon's paternal grandmother, an ancient, revered lady who had decided to move to North America after receiving the news that, number one, her sons were faring well and successfully over there, and, number two, that her husband had run off to Gangnam, got a facelift to look younger, and became a one-hit wonder based off a ridiculous dance he did in a music video. She simply couldn't live with that reputation! Anyways, she decided to buy a house in Minnesota, because she loved the weather there, and vowed to visit her grandchildren as frequently as possible. Which, sadly, that wasn't always possible, because she got a lucrative job opportunity to work as a lounge singer.

Anyway, she reached Grenouille, and it came as quite a surprise to Aunt Gyeong and Uncle Myeong, who hadn't received any calls or letters in advance saying that she was coming.

"Eomeoni!" Uncle Myeong exclaimed, as he saw his mother come out of her red sports car which she'd parked right in front of the house for all the neighbors to see. "You didn't call ahead or write ahead in advance to say that you were coming!"

"I knew you'd be totally chill about it, though," Halmeoni said. "That's why I just sped my way right up here. Now, where are the grandchitlins? I heard that one was over visiting, and I know your own one sure is always happy to see me."

Out of the house burst Minho and Lennon.

"Halmeoni!" Minho exclaimed. "You're here!"

"Halmeoni!" Lennon exclaimed. "You're here!"

"Of course I'm here!" Halmeoni replied. "Now, please help your little old grandmother up the stoop into the house. With all these cracks in the pavement I just might trip and fall. Be mindful, I have a trick knee. Don't do what your fathers did to me on Whippoorwill's bat mitzvah."

Just then, Newt walked by with a basket of vegetables.

"Hey, you're the British kid, aren't you?" Halmeoni inquired.

"Um… Yeah?" Newt replied. "Aunt Gyeong, my mother said that these were for you."

"Thank you," Aunt Gyeong said, walking down the stoop to take the basket of veggies. "Tell your mother that I'll have that quilt ready in about a week."

Newt was quiet. His eyes wandered, then opened way wide.

"Whoa!" he said. "Look at that car! Is that a 1983 Velociraptor Razor Convertible 4000?!"

"It sure is," Halmeoni said. "I payed for it with some of the money my husband got for his music video."

"That's totally sick!" Newt said, still ogling the car. "Can I take a selfie of myself next to it?"

"Why not?"

After his selfie, Newt said he had to skeedaddle, so he skeedaddled off in the direction of his house.

Once Halmeoni was inside and placed in the rocking chair (which moved forward every time it got rocked back and forth; Minho called it the Moving Chair, because he's creative like that), she said, "Now, I wanna know what's up with the kids. When my boys would come home from school when they were little, they'd always tell me everything that happened. Except Youngsoo, Harry. He would always be mean and sit in a corner, scowling at everyone. So, kiddos! Tell me what's up in your lives?"

Minho said, "Everything's good. Pretty good. Except I keep seeing that awful girl Teresa, because she keeps hanging out with Thomas. I don't see how he can stand her! She fills me with a rage every time I hear her name!"

"Every time you see her," Halmeoni said, "you should do what I always do when I have to see the woman who stole my man years ago, forcing me to marry that CPA-turned-singer."

"What do you do?"

"I give her a hug, and say, 'You smell so different when you're awake'."

Minho and Lennon laughed and laughed at that.

"So, Lennon," Halmeoni said, "what's new in your life?"

"Well," Lennon said, "nothing much. I recently went up on a roof for the first time."

"I remember my first time up on a roof… I decided to jump down, and I barely even got hurt."

"Eomeoni!" Uncle Myeong sounded absolutely and utterly shocked. "Don't give them any ideas! Just the other day, Minho…"

"Oh, kids will be kids!" Halmeoni said gleefully. "Now, Minho, how's it going with you and that one girl? Dorindabelle, I think her name was?"

Blushing, Minho replied, "She wasn't interested in me. She liked a guy with bigger pecs."

"How dare she?!" Halmeoni looked appalled. "I better go over to wherever she is and give her a piece of my mind! I'll shout it all in Korean, though, so she has to lie awake at night for the rest of her life, wondering what I was even saying to her! If there's one thing I absolutely can't stand, it's someone choosing one person over another for garrulous reasons! I mean, Minho, you're a thousand times awesomer of a guy than some fellow with humongous pecs! Why's she gotta turn you down for the Rock's teenage twin? Huh?"

Minho laughed.

"And, Lennon," Halmeoni said, "is that Ella girl still bothering you?"

"Not much," Lennon replied. "I still can't quite get over her, though. Oh, and I made eye contact with her once. We just so happened to be at a peace convention at the same place same time. It was awkward."

"But you both kept the peace, though, right?"

"Halmeoni, we didn't even regard each other's existence."

"As you should in that situation. I ignore tons of people, all day, all the time."

The two shanks talked with their grandmother for quite some time.

Finally, she stood up, and said, "Well, I gotta see what Gyeong and Myeong are doing. They're probably trying to cook me some dinner, which, as you-all know, I'm picky about how I get served."

With that, she left the parlor and walked straight into the kitchen. Minho and Lennon heard her holler about "back in her day" folks doing such and such while fermenting cucumbers and leaving the eyes in the herring and not drinking sauce straight from the bottle.

"Sometimes," Lennon said, "she makes _us_ seem polite."

"Yeah," Minho agreed. "But we love her."

"Of course."

The two of them walked down into the basement, where the TV was kept.

"Let's watch that movie we got from the video store the other day," Minho suggested.

"Which one?" Lennon asked. "Didn't we get two?"

"Oh, you're right!"

The DVDs had been left on the davenport. Minho picked both of them up. One title was "The Fault In Our Stars", the other title was "The Maze Runner".

"That second one sure looks lame-o," Lennon said. "I mean, if I didn't know any better, I'd think it was an exercise video, or something."

"Yeah," Minho agreed. "I think it's based off of some book. Let's watch this first movie."

Towards the end of "The Fault In Our Stars", Minho was bawling his eyes out.

"It's just not fair!" he said. "Why'd that have to happen to Hazel and Augustus? They were so young!"

Lennon shrugged his shoulders.

"It's too bad," he said. "I guess it had to happen, though, or how else would this have made a great movie? Well, book. I read the book."

Through tears, Minho replied, "Don't tell anyone I reacted like this to this movie. In fact, don't tell anyone I watched it. And, if you do tell anyone I watched it, I simply watched it because you wanted to."

"Aye, aye."

As the film credits rolled, Minho commented, "I'm crying even harder now than when I saw 'Titanic'. And '101 Dalmatians'."

"How did '101 Dalmatians' make you cry? It ends perfectly happily, with none of the puppies getting hurt or dying."

"But I was so scared that something horribly awful would happen to them, and that they wouldn't get home safely. For a small child, that movie is traumatizing."

"I liked it. It was a commentary on the slave trade, the fur trade, and all those other awful trades, but it ends with good triumphing over evil. Plus, also, they're all British."

The sound of knocking on a door came from upstairs, and then the door opening and closing. Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Alby and Thomas entered the basement.

"Oh, my word!" Alby said. "Not to sound like a white person and all, but… Hey! What movie are you watching?"

Before the DVD cases could be hidden, Alby swiped them.

"This 'Maze Runner' movie looks cool," he said. "But seriously, dudes? You guys are also watching a sappy romance?"

"It was very heartwarming and heart touching," Lennon explained.

"Bro, you gotta watch something that'll keep your mind from becoming Play-Do!"

"Well, I watched a documentary yesterday, and that certainly was some awesome brain food."

Alby shrugged.

"I guess if you balance it out with something like that," he said, "you can't go wrong."

"Not that I like romances all that much," Lennon continued. "I mean, I watched this one, and it was cool, but most are not something I can relate to. I mean, the concept of romantic feelings is unrealistic. I believe in friendships on various levels, and I guess some people are drawn together by the hots, but the traditional stereotype of how couples feel for each other? Rubbish!"

"He's an ace," Minho explained to his friends. "They don't have traditional relationships, or traditional feelings."

"I haven't passed my eighteenth birthday," Lennon told his cousin. "Until then, my identity and feelings are ambiguous."

"I'm sure you're gonna have the same orientation by the time you roll over in the grave," Minho said. "I mean, you're almost eighteen, anyway."

Thomas looked horrified, somewhat, but then he said, "You know, when I'm with Teresa…"

Minho interrupted, "Don't mention that maven of good will around me, shuckhead!"

"Whoa, whoa!" Alby said. "Cool it, Minho! There's no need to use words like that!"

"Who are you to judge what I say?" Minho asked harshly. "I mean, you're the one coming in and criticizing the movies I watch!"

"The only reason you're saying such mean things about Teresa," Thomas said, "is because you're schlepping such harsh, horrible grudges against her! Why can't you just let it go?"

"Ooh!" Alby said. "You just mentioned my jam. Let it go, let it go, can't hold it back any more…"

"I'm not schlepping grudges!" Minho said. "I'm perfectly content with the grudges!"

Just then, into the basement ran Halmeoni.

"Do I hear somebody making my little grandboy upset?!" she hollered. She was carrying two pies in her hands. "Take that!" She threw one at Alby, which hit him right in the face. "And take that!" She also threw one at Thomas, which also hit him in the face. "Nobody makes fun of or pokes at my grandchildren's touchy subjects!" With that, she rushed back upstairs, probably to go eat pie.

"Um…" Thomas said. "Who was that?"

"That's Halmeoni," Lennon explained. "You get used to her. The Kang mischpoche is sometimes known for its apparent mischegas."

"The Schliwinsky family must be extremely calm in that case," Thomas said. "You're not one tenth without self-control as Minho is."

"I will say that my mother and her relatives are rather zenned out," Lennon admitted. "Still, I don't know if I could be qualified as part of that crowd."

"Yeah," Minho said. "Did I tell you yet? At, like, zero o'clock in the morning, or something, he was on the roof with Brenda, chatting up a storm!"

Alby exclaimed, "You were on the roof with Brenda?! What was she doing here?! That's so weird and creepy!"

"Lennon didn't seem to think so," Minho commented. "I guess Illinoisans have a different definition of trespassing and curfew. Anyway, Alby, what were you saying before you took notice of my rented DVDs?"

Alby thought a moment.

"Oh, yeah," he said, suddenly remembering. "I've got horrible news."

"And what is this 'horrible news', that makes you sound like a white person?" Minho raised an eyebrow. He remembered Alby's controversial statement from a few moments ago! There's no way he's forgetting that!

"I just noticed I'm the only white person in here…" Thomas muttered.

"I'm white, also," Lennon said. "And Asian. Isn't genealogy so fun? The other day, I was on , and they came out with an article that said…"

"Hey, I'm talking about my own news over here," Alby interrupted. "Anyway, the showing of _Mamma Mia_ I was going to go see next month is cancelled! Isn't that the most horrible thing you've ever heard?!"

"Horrible," Minho said. "Absolutely horrible. Not like I even care about that musical, though. I mean, I'll be happy as long as that production of _Urinetown _doesn't get cancelled."

"Can we go back to the topic of being white?" Thomas asked. "I mean, I really want to complain about blinding everyone during swimming suit season."

"What a garrulous problem," Alby said.

"Yeah!" Minho added. "Why not talk to us about…"

"Okay, Minho," Lennon said, putting a hand over his cousin's mouth. "Before this friendly conversation becomes a heated debate on racial privilege and rights, let's not mention the millennia of depressing histories. We can discuss this when you're feeling calmer and less likely to act like Halmeoni."

"Did someone say my name?" Halmeoni inquired, running down into the basement. "I hope you-all aren't talking about me behind my back! I'm watching you!"

With that, she went back upstairs, hollering something about how "back in her days" kitchens were such-and-such without that-and-that and this-such. The fellas in the basement couldn't help but laugh.

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you have any suggestions, please review or message me! **

**Happy Christmas, Hanukkah, Yule, Kwanzaa, that-holiday-from-Bear-in-the-Big-Blue-House, &tc.! Don't get tummy-aches from all the awesome food, all you-all! And, if anyone reading this is a Jehovah's Witness, simply have a great day! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Hurray! It's time for another chapter of this story! (Which, I probably should be working on my other story, since I kind of think I left on a cliff-hanger, last I remember...) I hope you enjoy it! By the way, if any of you readers are interested in wild ideas, if you'd like to, why not read my short(ish) post on AVEN about my postulation that TMR might be an (accidental) allegory about asexuality! The link is www . asexuality en/ topic/ 111724 - potential - asexual - allegory/**

**Be sure to enjoy this chapter! :)**

Unbeknownst to most, Thomas had a darling sister. Her name was Jennifer, or, rather, Jenny for short. (Because two syllables are easier to say than three). She and him didn't look too much related, but they both had light brown hair and had spoke with a slight lisp that they didn't realize they had until it'd been pointed out to them by someone who professionalized in speech therapy. (Thankfully, barely any of their friends had noticed, or else they would have ended up with a special place in their secondary school's yearbook. How embarrassing that would be!)

Jenny had been so gleefully happy for weeks, because her boyfriend Gally would be moving into town soon to work for the local mad scientist, the evil Dr. Archibald Janson. She loved Gally _sooooooooo _much, because he was ever so dashing, elegant, charming, &tc., &tc. He was the best boyfriend ever, because every Thursday night, he took her out for ice cream and spitting contests by the bridge by the river. They were someday going to get married and have a big white wedding, or whatever you call those boring events.

It used to be the case, back in middle school when all the girls were taller than the boys, that Jenny had an _enormous _crush on Minho. She used to look at his Myspace posts every night, giggling at his atrociously poor grammar. That is, until she saw the photos he put up of him visiting his dweeby gothic cousin Lennon, who just wasn't a teenybopper, and therefore was a not-so-cool influence. She lost all regard for Minho, who was bound to someday stop listening to trashy pop for the sake of joining a more interesting music scene.

So of course, she was peeved when her parents invited the Kang family over for dinner. Why did they haven't to ruin her night, when she'd already been planning on talking to Gally on the phone till three in the morning? To make matters worse, she was made to sit next to some old lady named Halmeoni, who had, like, the most annoying voice ever.

"So, Jennifer," Halmeoni said, slurping her soup, "do you have any hobbies? When I was your age, my girlfriends and I would stow away on cargo ships to get to Japan so we could do shopping at the Ginza. We also liked to drop water balloons on people's heads."

"Um…" Jenny didn't know how to reply. "Well, shopping is fun, but I can't say that I've ever been to the Ginza. But, wait, you aren't already Japanese?"

Halmeoni laughed out loud.

"Of course not!" she replied. "I come from South Korea!"

Jenny was, like, so totally embarrassed!

"So," Halmeoni continued, "I so heard that you used to be friends with my little Minho."

"Halmeoni…" Minho said, embarrassed at being called "little".

Halmeoni, ignoring her grandson, continued, "And you would go and visit him about as much as Thomas would. Now, it looks like just Thomas is doing the visiting, but that's okay. I doubt you have any prejudices keeping you from being friendly to other people. Why, you must have _tons _of friends!"

Jenny and Thomas's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien, coughed and cleared their throats nervously.

"So, who likes the soup?" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien inquired. Then, she remembered, and her face went bright red. Aunt Gyeong had called ahead to remind her that Lennon was vegetarian, but Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien completely forgot to make another option for the main course. (Well, considering how squid-and-possum brain soup was her favorite, it was easy for her to forget her guests' dietary restrictions).

"Oh, it's as tasty as ever," Aunt Gyeong said.

"You cook immaculately," Uncle Myeong added.

"It's sure good, that's for sure," Minho complimented.

"Meh," Halmeoni said, "I could do better."

"Um… Lennon?" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien inquired, "Are you enjoying your… bread and salad?"

"Oh, yes, most definitely!" Lennon commented. "Did you make the bread?"

"Um, actually, yes." Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien smiled, glad that no ill will was being projected at her. "I try to make sure the house is always stocked each week with fresh bread. The only time it isn't is when I'm on vacation or sick."

Thomas said, "But that rarely happens. And, when it does, Dad always makes her his special healing stew. She rarely is sick for long."

"It's not special healing stew," Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien said, smiling. "It's just stew that helps her feel better, that's all."

"So, Lennon," Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien said, "since the Boulanger-O'Briens like the Kangs so much, we really should get to know you. You've graduated, or so I've heard."

"Yes," Lennon said. "I'll be going to college soon."

"What major will you be?"

Lennon was tired as can be of people asking him that, when he really had no idea what he wanted to do with the rest of his life. So he lied.

"I'm double majoring in Gynecology and Queer Studies."

Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien spit the water he was drinking out of his mouth and over the food. Jenny looked shocked as can be. Minho, Halmeoni, and Thomas were laughing, and Aunt Gyeong and Uncle Myeong were trying to suppress a chuckle.

"I'm just joshing you," Lennon said to the red-faced Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien. "I really don't know what field of study I want to go into."

"Well, this was fun," Jenny said. "May I please be excused?"

"But darling!" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien protested. "Nobody's even eaten dessert yet!"

"But Mom!"

"No buts, young lady. You need some sugar in your system, as well as plenty of trans fats to keep your body tolerant of disgusting things that you may have to consume when the entire earth sinks into poverty and there's nothing good left to consume."

Jenny scowled.

"Anyways, Lennon," Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien continued, "I'm sure you'll find the right thing somewhere along the way. So, do you have any brothers or sisters?"

Lennon replied, "There's my half-sister Whippoorwill, and my godbrother Peter. Honestly, though, I sometimes feel like an only child, if that makes sense."

"I had ten brothers and sisters. I'm not quite sure I would recognize the only child feeling even if it was ever present."

"With the amount of time Jenny spends in Montreal," Thomas said, "I certainly understand what it's like to be an only child. I guess not in as ethereal a manner as you, though, Lennon."

Jenny said, "I like Montreal. It's easy to blend in and be ignored in those big cities. Over here in the small town, I risk being said hello to whenever I walk down the street."

Before dinner had started, Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien had locked his pet alligator Kiko in his and his wife's bedroom, so she wouldn't scare the guests. Just then, though, as the conversation went from talking about siblings to talking about Jenny's unsociable behavior, Kiko escaped the bedroom and rushed into the dining room where everyone was eating.

She glared about at everyone sitting at the table. Normally, she got to eat there for dinner, also. How come tonight she had to eat all alone, all by her lonesome self? She saw Minho sitting at the seat she normally sat at. That made her so angry, not just at this insolent fool using her favorite chair, but also at her pet humans for letting this insolent fool use her favorite chair!

She started barking ferociously at Minho, so he'd leave and so she could take her place as rightful ruler of the table! Too bad he just scowled at her and went on eating. So Kiko took Minho's almost empty bowl and ran away with it, going up the stairs. She hid it in a super secret spot, and no one found it afterwards. What I do know is this: What little food that was left in there got all moldy, and eventually took on a life of its own and ran off to Oklahoma, where it started a folk-rock-polka band.

Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien put Kiko back in the bedroom, scolding her. So Kiko scolded him back. They both told each other that they were terribly naughty pets, and should be made to wear hideous pet sweaters. (Not that any sweater could be more hideous than the one Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien was wearing at the moment. _That's _for sure!)

Meanwhile, Jenny complained about how she hadn't eaten any deep-fried Oreos in a week, and was therefore feeling altogether too healthy. Sighing, Thomas commented on how he hadn't had chocolate in over four years, almost five, due to a terrible allergy.

"I'm sick and fed up with carob," he said. "It's okay and all, but it's just not the same as good, old chocolate."

"I know, honey," Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien said sympathetically. "But, like the Rolling Stones say, 'You can't always get what you want; but if you try sometime, you might just find, you get what you need.'" (By the way, I really like that song!)

Lennon said, "My mother, actually, is working on a way to perform therapy on those who have chocolate allergies. She's actually collaborating with someone who, I think, lives around here. Maybe she can…"

"That someone is _me_!" a sinister voice said, as a figure walked into the dining room.

"Dr. Janson!" Mrs. Boulanger-O'Brien exclaimed. "You never said you'd be visiting tonight!"

"Of course," Dr. Janson replied, taking Mr. Boulanger-O'Brien's seat at the table. (The latter was still having an argument with Kiko). He started munching on a carrot that he had in the front pocket of his orange-and-purple-and-brown polo. "I always like to come fashionably uninvited. Anyway, young Lennon, your mother finally found the Cure for chocolate allergies, which, as you may know, she and I like to call the Flare. She's about to send the blueprints to me, and I am planning on starting a clinic somewhere on the outskirts of town."

"The Flare?" Thomas inquired. "Why do you call it that?"

"Because," Dr. Janson explained, "before horrifying sun flares hit the Earth, causing the death of the dinosaurs, dragons, unicorns, and carebears, no one was allergic to chocolate. Now, though, it's otherwise. The Flare is one of the worst curses to befall humankind!"

"What about death?" Jenny asked. "I mean, that's a pretty horrible curse, isn't it? Or do you actually like death? Is that why your clandestine, underground human slaughterhouse…"

"Anyway," Dr. Janson continued, "tomorrow, my new assistant will arrive. And, after I make him rub my aching feet, I will make him set up a chair so I can begin my plan."

"So, before you even have a clinic, you'll start performing the Cure on people?" Minho asked.

Laughing, Dr. Janson said, "Pish-poo-poo! No! I've got to do preliminary Trials, you see, to see if the Cure actually works, because I didn't actually help Ms. Schliwinsky-Kang find it or discover it. So, you see, I can't be sure of anything. See?"

Thomas whispered to Minho and Lennon, "I'm beginning to think, if I'm going to have to medically trust this guy, being able to eat chocolate again won't be worth it."

Later on, after dinner, Thomas, Minho, and Lennon were hanging out in Thomas's bedroom. The floor was covered in a bright pink rug, and the bedspread was green while the bedframe was blue. There was a squatty dresser with a cedar wardrobe on top of it. And, on all the walls, there were tons of pictures and posters of Zubaida Tharwat, Thomas's celebrity crush. (Seriously, look her up. She just so happens to be the look-alike of the greatest and awesomest actress of our era. It's so unexpected!)

"Dude," Minho said, picking up a gossip magazine that was on Thomas's night table, "this guy is annoying. How can you stand reading something that has him on the front cover?"

The front cover had a picture of some actor named Ki Hong Lee, with a few too many top buttons of his shirt unbuttoned. The headline said "Newly Risen-to-Fame Actor Gets New Girlfriend For Every Movie? (Gasp!)", and there were little mug pictures of smiley, plastic-faced young women along the edge of the magazine.

"And those are all his girlfriends?" Lennon inquired. "Oh, wait. This is one of those tabloid things, isn't it?"

"It sure is," Thomas replied, snatching the magazine out of Minho's hands. "And I like reading it, because it's _way _more interesting than the regular news!"

Pensively, Lennon said, "Do you think that lady at the karaoke bar sells magazines for cheaper than the supermarket? I mean, I'm not into celebrity gossip. I just want to read the stuff about aliens and UFOs and Bigfoot, and I don't want to waste too much money."

"Beats me." Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "Hey, check this out! I got it at the mall yesterday."

Thomas opened up the wardrobe, and pulled out the most hideous tweed jacket imaginable.

"Doesn't it look great?" he inquired.

"I think it looks downright ugly," Minho answered. "I mean, who in their right mind would wear that?"

"Minho!" Lennon interjected. "Don't be so rude! You can say the truth in a kind way. Like this, for example: Thomas, I don't think that jacket looks great. See, Minho? I was being very polite."

"Do you guys really hate it?" Thomas asked. "I was happy when I got it, because I was thinking about dressing up as the Doctor at the special 'Doctor Who' showing next week."

"Well, if you're wearing it for that, I guess it'll do." Minho nodded his head. "I mean, now that I think about it, since I wanna dress up as a Dalek for the showing, I'm gonna have to carry around with me a toilet plunger and an egg beater or whisk or something. Seriously, that sexy Dalek dress by itself won't do any justice."

"Wait, there's a 'Doctor Who' showing next week?" Lennon's eyes went wide open. "How come no one told me about this?"

"Harry McGilmore himself is gonna be there," Thomas said. "He's coming dressed in character."

"Who's he?"

"I dunno. Someone told me his character died before the theme song even came on. It was that episode with those aliens who ate you with their eyes."

"Whoever it is," Minho commented, "I bet he's gonna do a great job! 'Doctor Who' never fails to do a great job!"

"Yes it does," Lennon said. "Remember that season when Moffat was allowed to write _all _the episodes? And remember when they let Rose stay on the show for _way _too long, even though she practically was a whiner? And remember that bad actress they got to play Martha, who was totally unconvincing? And remember-"

"Whatever," Minho said. "I still think it's great, even when it isn't. I guess that's the charm of it."

Outside the window, someone was in a tree, gazing in at the three boys. It was Machiavelli von Tarantelli, the evillest, wickedest, nefariousest prankster of all time.

"And now," he said to himself, "I shall do something that will humiliate those three buffoons!"

But just as he was about to pull out his wiffle bat to break through the window, and just as he was about to pull out his wedgie machine which he was going to use after his broke through the window, he felt both the wiffle bat and the wedgie machine get knocked out of his hands. They fell to the ground, and broke, because they were made out of cheap plastic from a candy shop.

"Who dares to interrupt my plans!" Machiavelli inquired crossly.

"I dare!" a voice up higher in the tree said.

"What?!" Machiavelli was perplexed. "You, Brenda?"

Brenda replied, "Of course! I wouldn't let you do something so horrible to my friends."

And with that, Brenda disappeared into the night.

Meanwhile, the boys were still in the bedroom, chatting away.

"So, Brenda and I might be going to that vegan restaurant soon," Lennon said. "She wants to get it over with, since she can't stand the suspense of not knowing whether or not the food is good."

"I hate restaurants," Thomas said. "Well, not really. I just hate how, whenever my family goes to a restaurant, Jenny always has to get a dessert with tons of chocolate in it. It's just not fair! Anyways, I think I know what restaurant you're talking about. Jenny ordered a chocolate fudge pie… Not just a piece of chocolate fudge pie, but the whole thing!"

Minho complained, "You're such a whiner! One mention of eating, and you go on a rant about how much you wish you could eat chocolate!"

"Oh, no!" Thomas suddenly looked horrified. "There's a potluck after church tomorrow! Mrs. Fou always brings a German chocolate cake!"

Needless to say, it took Lennon and Minho a long time to console Thomas.

**So... I wasn't quite sure how to end this chapter, so I decided to do a total "Keeping Up Appearances" conclusion and end it at a random spot. Please review, follow, and favorite this story, and be sure to leave suggestions! :) Also, a special congratulations (and thanks) to theevilsquiddancer for being my first reviewer and follower for this story! And thanks to junepepper&Niji and Sassy Minho for following! I don't think I'll do this thanking stuff for every chapter, but it's good to get it out anytime. :) **


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